NE OF OUR ADORABLE TRADITIONS here in August was to have an end-of-summer bash for the high-school juniors and seniors, as well as the Nauset High graduates from the past spring. Lighthouse Day was a day-long carnival held at the school grounds, followed by a semiformal dance that night. It was a way to say goodbye to the kids who’d graduated in June and to usher in the coming academic year for the upperclassmen. The dance rivaled the prom in social import, and Danny and his girlfriend, Sarah, had been talking about it for weeks.

I rode my new bike over to Sam’s the Sunday before Lighthouse Day to see how my guys were. I’d spent the morning at the senior center, checking in on Dr. Whitaker’s patients, and I could use a little fresh air after being inside for three hours. I cruised easily down the level bike path, savoring the deep blue of the kettle ponds and gulping in the fragrance of bayberry, pine and the sharp scent of the salt marsh. Feeling cheerful and energized, I steered my bike down Sam’s road. I hadn’t been over since my birthday bash, and his yard, as always, was magnificent, bursting with color and fragrance. Sam was out in the yard, dripping with sweat as he reinforced a retaining wall under a cascade of pink clematis.

“Now that Trish doesn’t live here, you can let this all go to seed, you know,” I suggested, sitting on the steps next to him.

“Trish, nothing. This is all my doing. How are you, Millie?”

“Oh, good enough. How about you?”

“Fine and dandy.” He wiped his brow and grinned.

“Still seeing that nice Carol?” I asked.

Sam grimaced. “Actually, no. We kind of dropped it.”

“Oh, no!” I blurted, torn between sympathy and guilty delight. “What happened?”

“Nothing, really. We just kind of hit a wall of pleasantry and didn’t seem to want to go any further.”

“Summer lovin’, had me a bla-ast,” I sang. Sam had been in the chorus of Grease in high school…my sister, of course, had been Sandy.

“Summer lovin’, happened so fast,” he sang back obligingly.

I watched admiringly as Sam wrestled another rock into place. His T-shirt was dark with sweat, his hair sticking up in odd places, and he was tan and smiling…. All in all, not too sad about the breakup with Carol. Neither was I, for that matter. “Maybe Carol just didn’t like you,” I suggested.

“Watch yourself, doc.”

“In fact, she said something to me along those lines. ‘Millie,’ she said, ‘I just don’t like Sam. He’s such a stiff.’”

Sam laughed and swatted me on the leg. “Well, Joe said something to me. ‘Sam,’ he said, ‘That Millie is a real pain in the ass.’”

“Plus, Carol also said, ‘That Sam can’t play baseball for shit.’”

“Well, Joe asked me if I had ever seen you running, and if so, what was wrong with you.”

“Carol also said, ‘That Sam is much too sweaty.’”

“Joe told me…oh, forget it. You win, kiddo.” He smiled and grabbed another rock.

“Hey, guys!” my nephew said, leaping down the steps and flopping on the grass. “What’s up?”

“The sky is up,” I said thoughtfully.

“Gosh, you’re funny, Aunt Mil. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. We need chaperones for the Lighthouse Dance, and I thought it would be cool if you and Joe came.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Sure.”

“You flatter me, darling. Of course we’ll come. It will be fun.”

Sam stopped his macho pursuits and wiped his forehead with his arm. “I didn’t know you needed chaperones, Dan. I could do it, too.”

Danny winced. “Well, Dad, here’s the thing.”

“You’re just not cool enough,” I offered.

“Shut up, Millie, or I’m giving you a big sweaty hug. What’s the thing, Danny?”

“You’re just not cool enough,” Danny answered, grinning. I burst into merry laughter as Sam scowled at me.

“No, really, Dad, you’re a cop,” Danny explained. “You know, you’ll make everybody behave.”

“You better behave anyway.”

“Oh, of course I will. Please. You know I don’t do that sh—stuff. Straight edge all the way. Don’t worry about me.”

“I will anyway.” For a tiny second, Sam looked a little bit sad, but then he picked an errant weed out of his garden and tossed it into the wheelbarrow. Nice cover, I thought.

“Aunt Mil will keep an eye on me, right, Millie?”

“Yes, of course I will, Daniel,” I answered. “And Sam, just because Joe and I are incredibly cool and you’re not doesn’t mean—”

“Give us a hug, sweetheart,” Sam said, opening his arms wide. I leaped up and ran away across the lawn, shrieking with laughter, feeling about nine years old again.

JOE WAS MORE THAN HAPPY to come to the Lighthouse Dance with me. “Great!” he exclaimed when I called him. “Man, those things were fun when we were kids, weren’t they, Mil?”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a Lighthouse Dance,” I told him.

“Really? How could you have missed out on that?”

Because I was fat and had acne and braces and would have jumped off the Sagamore Bridge before going. Luckily—or not—Joe didn’t seem to remember me back then. “Oh, I was kind of shy back then,” I answered.

“Well, we’re going to have a great time, Millie. You’ll see.”

I was excited, too. According to the guidelines the Lighthouse committee had sent me, chaperones were encouraged to dress up as well. Jill Doyle was going to be a chaperone, too, and she’d invited Joe and me to have dinner with several other couples before the dance. It all sounded very grown-up and fun.

I arranged to have my hair cut and colored again and had lunch with Curtis and Mitch in P-town afterward. When I got home, I called my mom and threw her the bone she’d been waiting for her whole life.

“Mom, I need a dress.”

“Millicent Evelyn Barnes!” she exclaimed in Nordstrom’s dressing room later that week. “Look at you! What a figure you’ve got, honey!”

“Well, I finally managed to lose some weight,” I answered modestly.

“But you kept your curves, you lucky thing,” she said. “Trish and I are just skin and bones.”

“I think slender is the word you’re looking for,” I said, blushing with pleasure.

Mom had me try on roughly a thousand dresses. The one we (she) picked in the end was, I had to admit, fantastic. Creamy-white satin, knee-length, with wide, 1950s off-the-shoulder straps and a curving, graceful neckline. The dress definitely made the most of my light tan and, uh, curves.

“You have such a natural beauty,” my mom sighed, looking mistily at me. Then she snapped out of it. “On to shoes. And we’re going to need a serious bra for that thing. Hurry up, honey.”

I didn’t have to work the day of the dance. Instead, I spent all day primping, just as I should have done as a teenager. First, a run for the healthy glow, then a boring but healthful breakfast. I vacuumed the sand out of my car and washed the windows clean of their doggy nose prints. Then I shaved my legs oh-so-carefully. Bubble bath with fantastic-smelling products. A manicure with clear nail polish, two coats. A long chat with Katie, then another with Curtis and Mitch, who cooed simultaneously into the same receiver. They advised cucumber slices for the eyes and lots of water.

“This is fun,” I said to them. “I never went to my prom, you know.”

“Really,” Mitch murmured politely, pretending to be surprised.

“You’ll be the prettiest one there,” Curtis replied loyally.

At five o’clock, I was ready. Joe pulled in promptly and came to my door, a single red rose in his hand. He looked—oh, magnificent didn’t do him justice. He’d gotten a haircut and looked more mature, more reliable than he did with the shaggy adorableness he usually sported. He was freshly shaved and grinning, dimples in full glory. He wore a navy-blue suit with a bright white shirt and blue-and-red tie.

“My God,” I breathed as I opened the door. “You’re beautiful, Joe.” I kissed him carefully so as not to mess up the three coats of lipstick I had painstakingly applied.

“You look great, too,” he said, handing me my rose. “Ready?”

We drove to Jill’s in my car—I hadn’t wanted to crawl in and out of Joe’s truck wearing the dress of all dresses, after all. Jill clucked and cooed over Joe and me and introduced us to the other chaperones as “the most beautiful people here.” I beamed. In fifteen short years, I had gone from fat girl to prom queen.

Jill’s dinner party was lovely. No one was ever allowed to be sad or shy around that woman, and her guests were lively and friendly. Except for one…

“Hi, I’m Millie Barnes,” I said, extending my free hand to an attractive woman in her early forties.

“Lorraine McNulty,” she said, taking my hand. “Fantastic dress.”

“Thanks! This is Joe Carpenter,” I said, turning to introduce my guy.

“Joe.” Lorraine’s features turned to stone.

“Hey, how are you?” Joe said. He looked at my full glass. “Millie, need another drink?” With that, he fled. I guessed the reason.

“Nice to meet you,” I said to Lorraine and followed Joe into the kitchen. He was gulping down some wine. “I guess you know her, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Old girlfriend?” I asked mildly.

“Something like that,” he answered. He finished the wine and then smiled at me. “Don’t leave me alone with her, okay?”

“Anything you should tell me?”

“Shit, no.”

I tried not to mind. There were too many of them to take offense. I’d always known that, I reminded myself. Besides, it was my very first big dance, and I wanted to enjoy it. I ate carefully, knowing the effect of my dress would be rather less with a big splotch of cocktail sauce on the bodice. I took only a few sips of wine; I was a chaperone, after all.

We settled into our dinner, chatting, laughing, having a lovely time, aside from the granite-faced Lorraine. Joe seemed subdued, speaking in a low voice, carefully not glancing at her end of the table.

“Well, my dears, I believe it’s that time,” Jill trilled after coffee and cake. We thanked her profusely and headed to our cars.

“So, Joe, you okay?” I asked as we drove up Route 6 toward the high school.

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you seemed a little shaken up by seeing that woman…Lorraine?”

He sighed and glanced at me. “She was one of those women I kind of told you about, Millie. I was doing some work at her house, and she put the moves on me, and the next thing you know, she’s talking about leaving her husband and—”

“She’s married?” I barked.

“Yeah. Well, she was back then. I think she got a divorce.”

“Joe! You slept with a married woman?” I couldn’t keep the shrillness from my voice.

“Well, yeah, I guess. But she was the one cheating on her husband, not me.”

Sam would never do anything like that. The thought popped into my head, taking me by surprise. But it was true. While I wanted desperately to believe there was a secret, heroic side to Joe Carpenter, there was nothing secret about Sam’s goodness.

“That’s not how adultery works, Joe,” I began, my voice tight. But at his look of confusion, gave up. We were at the school, and I couldn’t deal with this conversation right now. As we pulled into the parking lot and got out of the car, the kids were starting to arrive, the girls as bright as exotic birds in their dresses, the boys adorably awkward in their suits.

Joe took my arm and led me toward the school, whistling under his breath. Once again, he was oblivious to how I was feeling. I gritted my teeth and tried to shove my negative thoughts away. He can’t help how women act around him, Millie. But it wasn’t just how the women acted. It was Joe, too.

“Ready, gorgeous?” Joe beamed at me, holding the door.

Forcing a smile, I took Joe’s hand. He’s not perfect, I told myself. No one is.

The gym was festooned with streamers and balloons, and strands of multicolored Christmas lights winked. In the middle of the room was a model of Nauset Light, about fifteen feet high, with a real light going round and round inside it.

“Oh, look, Joe! A lighthouse!” It was so charming that I forgot my turmoil.

“Yeah, well, I hate to tell you this, Millie, but they’ve had that since we were here.”

“Oh.” My smile slipped.

We wandered around, waving to the other chaperones and kids we knew. Our duties were pretty vague; keep an eye out for drinking and drugs, overly intense making out, stuff like that. Be the grown-ups, in other words.

My nephew and Sarah approached us. “Hi, you guys!” I said. “Oh, Sarah, you look beautiful! Wow!”

“So do you, Millie,” she said shyly. “Hi, Mr. Carpenter.”

“Hi, Danny,” I said, reaching up for a hug. “You’re so handsome, my little angel boy,” I whispered into his ear.

“Thanks for whispering that,” he said, grinning happily. “Hey, Joe.”

“Hey, Dan,” Joe answered amiably. “You having fun yet?”

“Sure,” they answered in unison.

“Well, go have a good time. You don’t have to hang around and talk to us.” I shooed them away, swallowing around the lump in my throat at the sight of my nephew. I hoped Sam had been able to see Danny and Sarah looking so beautiful. I hoped he’d taken a picture for me.

“She called me Mr. Carpenter,” Joe said, jerking his chin toward Sarah. “That girl.”

“Well, Joe, you are almost twice her age. We both are.”

“Yeah, I guess so. Makes you feel old, though.”

“Thirty is not old, Joe.”

“I guess not.” He sighed. “Hey, are you gonna dance with me or what?”

I hesitated. “How about in a little while, when more people are dancing. I don’t see any other chaperones out there yet.”

“Okay, okay,” Joe muttered, looking a bit irked. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, all right?”

“Sure.” I watched Joe walk around the dance floor to the exit. He might be twice the age of some of the girls here, but that didn’t keep them from stealing looks at him. Yes, I was definitely with the prom king. A rather old prom king, but a prom king nonetheless.

Somehow, though, the rush of surprise and pleasure that I’d once gotten from being near him was absent tonight. The voice that usually defended Joe was getting a little quiet these days, and I was having trouble reconciling what I thought about Joe to…well, to how he was.

I glanced around the room, suddenly feeling a little awkward, standing there alone amid all the kids. Maybe I would go to the ladies’ room and give my bra a tug. Couldn’t hurt. I walked in that direction, careful not to twist an ankle in my high heels. As I glided cautiously, I spied a familiar figure…tall, lanky, graying brown hair. Sam!

His back was to me, and he was talking to another chaperone whose name escaped me, though she had been at Jill’s party. I stood politely to the side for a minute, waiting for them to notice me. Just as it became uncomfortable, the woman said goodbye to Sam and gave me a little wave.

“Hi, Sam!” I said. He turned around.

“Hey, Millll…” was all that came out. Sam stared at me like he’d never seen me before, mouth slightly open, looking rather stunned. His eyes traveled down and then up, and I couldn’t help giggling. I spun around so he could see the whole dress. His breath came out in a rush. “Wow.”

“Did my dad pay you to say that?” I asked, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Millie, my God.”

“Thank you. You’re too kind.” Even though it was just Sam, the thrill of being openly admired washed over me. “Okay, close your mouth. What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t cool enough.”

Sam gave his head a little shake. “Sorry. Okay. What did you say?”

“Why—are—you—here—Sam?” I asked again, over-enunciating the words as if he were hard of hearing.

“Oh. Randy Lynch got appendicitis. Danny asked if I could fill in at the last minute.”

“Oh, great! For you, I mean, not for Randy. I just saw Danny and Sarah. Did you take lots of pictures?”

“I sure did.”

We stood there a minute. As the music pulsed, more people ventured out onto the dance floor. It was funny to watch; you could tell that all the girls had practiced for hours in front of the mirror, they moved with such grace and precision. The boys, on the other hand, danced as if they were being poked with an electric cattle prod, sudden, spastic movements of long limbs and jerking heads.

“Did you have fun at your Lighthouse Dance?” I asked, dimly remembering Trish primping much as I had today.

“Oh, sure. Did you?”

“I’ve never been to one before.”

“Really? How come?” Sam asked curiously.

“Because, dummy, I was fat and hideous and awkward and there was no boy on earth who wanted to be around me. Don’t you remember?” I gave a sharp laugh, irritated at having to revisit my gawky adolescence for a second time.

“No, Millie,” Sam answered slowly, looking at me gravely. “That’s not how I remember you at all.”

His words caused an odd wiggle in my knees, and I looked away abruptly. My cheeks felt hot as I surveyed the crowd. A chaperone couple joined the dance fray, braving the heaving bodies to do their duty.

“Do you have a date?” I asked above the noise.

“Nope. Just me.”

“Too bad Carol dumped you.”

“I dumped her, kiddo.”

“Of course you did, honey. My mistake.” Sam laughed and shook his head. “So, Sam, what are you going to do next year when Danny’s at college?” I asked, hoping belatedly that it wasn’t a painful subject.

“Actually, I was just thinking about that myself. I thought I might try to finish my degree. I just have a couple courses to go. Then I’m thinking about getting a master’s in criminology.”

“Sam, that would be great! Good for you!”

“Well, you know, I’d finally have the time. It would be good to finish, too.”

“That is just fantastic, buddy.”

Joe appeared at my side. “Hey, Sam!” he said, shaking hands.

“Hi, Joe. Beautiful date you got there,” Sam replied.

“You bet. The prettiest. And hey, pretty woman, you want to dance?”

I glanced at Sam, who gave me a wink. “I’ll take pity on you later,” I called to him as Joe led me onto the dance floor. The DJ was playing a nice slow song by Norah Jones, and Joe pulled me close against his warmth.

“Dancing always makes me horny,” he whispered into my hair.

“Joe! Shh! We’re chaperones!”

“Hmm. Want to duck into the AV room?”

“No, you dope,” I laughed, but it was with an edge. “Behave yourself.”

We danced for a minute or two more, and I watched the kids swaying around us. Danny and Sarah were nearby, Sarah’s eyes closed, her cheek on Danny’s shoulder. So beautiful. I glanced over at Sam, who was standing in the classic cop stance, feet slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. He glanced at me and smiled, and I gave him a little wave.

At that moment, Joe decided to kiss me—a pretty intense kiss, too. I pulled away as best I could with his arm around my waist. “Joe! Come on! We’re chaperones! We can’t make out on the dance floor,” I hissed.

And then it came to me. That unmistakable taste of alcohol. Not wine. Something else.

“Joe, have you been drinking?” I whispered in horror.

“Well, I did have a little nip out there in the parking lot.” He smiled down at me.

“A nip of what? And why?”

“Jeez, Millie, calm down. Just a little blackberry schnapps, that’s all. For old time’s sake.”

As if I had psychic powers, I glanced to a corner of the room where three boys stood huddled together. One of them pointed at Joe, and then they disappeared out the door.

“Joe.” I stopped dancing. “Did you give your schnapps to anybody?” Though my heart had begun to pound in my throat, I forced my voice to stay low.

“What? Oh, yeah, I gave it to a couple of kids who were hanging around. What’s the matter, Millie? It’s not a big deal.”

“Joe, you idiot,” I whispered harshly. “It’s against the goddamn law to give alcohol to minors! What if one of them is driving tonight? What if they hit somebody? Christ, Sam would throw you in jail for this!”

People were beginning to look at us, standing still and arguing as we were. I stalked off the dance floor and out the same door the boys had left. Joe followed.

“Where are they?” I demanded outside.

“Who?”

“The boys you gave the alcohol to, Joe! Where are they?” I had to stop my hand from slapping his face.

“There.” He pointed, and I stomped over to a big maple at the edge of the parking lot. The boys looked startled. One of them, Kyle, I thought, was in Danny’s class.

“Give it to me.” I held out my hand.

“Uh, what are you talking about?” one of them attempted.

“Now!” I barked.

Kyle pulled the flat schnapps bottle from his waistband. “Sorry, Dr. Barnes.”

I unscrewed the metal cap and dumped the ridiculous drink on the ground. “Do you know that Danny Nickerson’s father is inside there? Do you know what he would do to you if he found you drinking? Were any of you planning on driving tonight?”

“Um, well, we were gonna go home together.”

“My God!” I surveyed the three of them for a minute, their eyes wide, nervously shifting. “Do you boys happen to know how Danny’s grandparents died?”

They shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, no, Dr. Barnes.”

“They were killed by a drunk driver. A teenage drunk driver. Those are Officer Nickerson’s parents I’m talking about.”

To their credit, they looked ashamed.

“I’m calling you boys a cab,” I said flatly. “You’re going home. Who are your dates? I’ll tell them.”

“Dr. Barnes, are you going to tell Danny’s dad?” Kyle asked worriedly.

I looked them over. “No. Not this time. This time you get a ‘Thank God a grown-up caught me and I’m not dead’ card. And on Monday, you’re coming to the Cape Cod Clinic, and we’ll all have a nice long look at drunk-driving crashes on the Internet. And you’ll be volunteering at the senior center twice a week for the entire school year. And if you fuck up again, I’m telling your parents, your principal and Officer Nickerson. And I will personally kick your asses into the middle of next week. Got it?”

They nodded miserably.

“Wonderful.” I took a deep breath. “Now. Does anyone have a cell phone?”

Ten minutes later, the boys were on their way home in a cab.

My anger at them faded as they drove off. After all, they were just teenagers, and most teenagers are stupid at one point or another. Unfortunately, that particular brand of stupidity often resulted in death. If I had scared them, good. I took a few deep breaths.

Now for the stupid adult I had to deal with.

Joe was sitting on the hood of my car, hands clasped between his knees, looking very contrite.

“I’m sorry, Millie,” he said quietly.

Fresh fury raced through my veins. “Joe…I just don’t know how you could do such a stupid, awful thing,” I said, my voice breaking. He hopped off the car and put his arm around me.

“Millie, I’m sorry,” he said earnestly. “I just wanted the boys to have a good time. It was like being back in high school, this whole Lighthouse Dance thing. I mean, I did a little drinking in high school, and it didn’t hurt me.”

“Joe, shut up,” I said harshly, shrugging off his arm. “You can’t justify giving those children alcohol. Please just shut up.” Hot, angry tears slipped down my face.

“Oh, Millie, don’t cry. Come on, let’s go back in and have fun.”

Dumbfounded, I looked up at him, the street lamp haloing him like an angel. A stupid angel.

And then I knew. I didn’t love Joe. He wasn’t the person I’d thought. He was a very handsome, charming dope. Not malicious. Just…oblivious. All the qualities I thought I’d seen over the years…they weren’t there. The Joe Carpenter I loved existed in my imagination only. The man standing in front of me was just some guy who happened to be too handsome for his own good.

I started to cry in earnest.

“Shit, Millie, come on. Don’t cry. I’m sorry. Nothing bad happened. You scared the hell out of those boys. It will be years before they take another drink. Come on, sweetie.”

“Joe…” I hiccupped. “Are you drunk?”

“No, no. I only had a glass of wine at Jill’s and just a little hit of the schnapps. I’m fine.”

“Good. Because I want you to go. Take my car back to my house, get your truck and just go home. I’ll get a ride.”

“Millie, come on. Don’t be like this.”

“I’m sorry, Joe. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And tomorrow I would break up with him.

Staring at me for a long moment, Joe finally nodded. I fished my keys out of my bag, handed them to him and tripped back into the school to the girls’ bathroom. My face in the mirror looked as if I’d aged ten years. My makeup was ruined. The dress…who even cared? And now I had to go back into the gym and chaperone my nephew’s dance and act normal. My eyes welled again.

Don’t think about it, I ordered myself. Just wait till you get home and deal with it then.

I blotted my face as best I could with the grainy paper towels, blew my nose and fluffed my hair. Danny was having a wonderful time, and I didn’t want to make a scene. And for Danny, I would do anything. I heaved a great sigh, blotted my eyes again and went back to the gym. I headed to the punch table and downed a glass of sugary pink liquid, then asked for another one.

Thus fortified, I turned and surveyed the dancers again. There were Danny and Sarah, slow dancing again, just barely shuffling their feet. Jill and her husband were cutting the rug nicely, dancing with energy and symmetry that bespoke ballroom dancing lessons. She waved energetically at me and I smiled and waved back. There was Sam, dancing with a woman I didn’t know. He looked happy. The lump in my throat swelled again, aching sharply. I turned away for a minute, fanning my face ineffectively with my hand, tried a few more deep breaths. Hopefully, the dim lights would hide my teary eyes.

Someone tapped my shoulder. Sam.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.

I pressed my lips together so I wouldn’t start crying again and shook my head.

“Is it Joe?” he guessed, taking my hand as if knowing that a hug would start me bawling. I nodded. Sam looked at the floor. “What can I do?”

“Can you drive me home later?” I squeaked.

“You bet.”

I looked around for a minute or two, waiting for the breathless, sobby feeling to leave me. The slow song ended and something livelier started up.

Sam tugged my hand. “Come on, kiddo. You said you’d take pity on me and dance.”

“No, not right now, Sam.” I swallowed and smiled, bravely, I thought.

“But this is our song,” he smiled, bending his knees to look in my eyes.

“We don’t have a song.”

“Well, we should, and it should be this one.” Without waiting for an answer, he dragged me onto the floor and promptly stepped on my foot.

“Ouch!”

“Whoops.”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Of course not! Come on, kiddo. Don’t just stand there. I might step on you again.”

“Are you trying to make me laugh?”

“No. Do not laugh. That’s an order. Whoops. Sorry. Come on, move those feet.”

I gave in and shuffled sluggishly. Sam gave me a quick hug. “It’ll be okay,” he whispered, twirling me around before I could start crying.

“You’re a terrible dancer,” I said above the noise, feeling a smile tug my lips despite the tears in my eyes.

“Takes one to know one,” he shot back, dipping and nearly dropping me.

“Jesus, Sam, be careful. Precious cargo and all that.”

“Right. So. Do you like our song?” he asked. It was awful, a garish, hideous, screeching song that the kids apparently adored.

“I love it. It’s so us. What’s the title?”

“I have no idea. Hey, Bobby,” he shouted to the boy nearest us. “What’s the name of this song?”

Bobby looked at us curiously. “‘The Unholy,’” he answered.

I MANAGED NOT TO CRY for the rest of the night, thanks mostly to Sam’s protection. At long last, the dance was over, and Sam and I got into his truck. I rested my pounding head against the cool glass of the window as we drove home in silence. When we got to my house, Joe’s truck was mercifully gone. Sam opened my door and helped me out, then walked me to the door.

“Want me to come in?”

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” Tears filled my eyes again, and my lips wobbled.

“How about just for a few minutes?” Sam offered.

I nodded, overwhelmed with gratitude at the comfort of his presence. I knelt down so Digger could kiss me, then went straight to the bedroom, unzipped my dress and slid it off. I heard Sam letting Digger out, then water running. I pulled on some old scrubs and went into the bathroom to wash my face.

Joe and I were done. I leaned over the sink and rinsed the tears away along with the soap, then went back into the kitchen. Sam had made coffee.

“It’s decaf,” he said, handing me a cup.

“Thanks,” I said, reaching for a tissue and blowing my nose. We both sat down at the kitchen table.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” Sam asked gently, stirring his coffee.

“Well,” I said shakily. “It’s just that…I’ll be breaking up with Joe tomorrow.” I took a breath that was actually a sob and held the tissue up to my eyes.

“I’m sorry, Millie.”

“I guess…I guess sometimes people aren’t exactly who you think they are, you know?”

“I do.”

Yes, I guess he would. We looked at each other, and he reached out and covered my hand with his own.

“I’m sorry, Millie,” he said again, very softly. My mouth wobbled again.

“Well, Sam,” I said, suddenly feeling as if I had weights tied to my limbs, “I think you can probably go now.”

“You sure? I can stay if you want.”

“No, I think I’m just going to cry it out for a while.”

“Okay, kiddo. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He rose and kissed the top of my head, and that small kindness squeezed another sob out of me.

“You were really great tonight, Sam,” I whispered. Unsurprising, that.

“Take care, honey.”

I looked at him through watery eyes. “Thanks.”

He let the dog back in and then left.